


Conscience

by Ankaret



Category: Arthurian Mythology
Genre: Christian Character, Cuddling and Snuggling, Dungeon, M/M, huddling together for warmth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-24
Updated: 2009-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-05 03:50:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ankaret/pseuds/Ankaret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Galahad and Mordred find themselves thrown together by a damosel's prophecy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conscience

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Perkyandproud](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perkyandproud/gifts).



A bitter wind blew over Camelot, and brought with it a damosel. She was fair as frost, and her lips were as cruel as roses.

She knelt before the King, and begged a boon. "Sir," she said, "of all these knights in the hall, tell me true, is there any who holds any allegiance in his heart, higher than his loyalty to you?"

"They are all good servants of God, as I hope," said the King, "and many are true servants of their ladies; but beyond that, I think them all loyal to me."

"Then let them come forth and swear so," said the damosel.

One by one, the knights of Camelot came forward, and knelt and touched the King's hands, and swore that their loyalty was given only to him, and to their ladies, and to God.

At last, only two remained. One was among the youngest knights in the hall, a handsome fair-haired young man with eyes as grey as a winter sky; the other was a hale man of nearly forty, with dark hair and strong shoulders.

"Galahad," said the King. "Why do you not come forth and swear your allegiance to me? Are you not my true man, as your father was before you?"

"I cannot," said Galahad, "for whilst I honour you before all the kings in this world, I have sworn that I will follow the Grail above all things, and that vow I shall keep."

The King shook his head, and was saddened. He looked on the other knight, and his face grew stern.

"Mordred, my nephew," said the King. "Why do you not come forth and swear your allegiance to me?"

"I cannot," said Mordred, "for I serve not the man but the kingdom. I will bow to the King of Logres, but not to Arthur the man, for I count that no more than idolatry."

"Now may I reveal to you," said the damosel with a small secret smile, "that one of these two knights here present will do you a great wrong, and the other will not be there to protect you from it, being at that time in the city of Sarras beyond the waves. And thus between these two knights you will perish."

"Let them both be slain!" cried Agravaine of the Strong Arm, striding forward.

"Let them both be cast into the dungeon, until the King and his advisors have decided what may be done with this prophecy," said the Queen, laying her hand upon the King's arm. She looked at Agravaine of the Strong Arm a little doubtfully, and added, "And let Agravaine not guard them, but rather guard me, as he does each year when I go a-Maying."

"It shall be so," said the King, and so they were both cast into the dungeons below Camelot.

It was cold there, and dark, and Mordred a poor companion. A while Galahad looked at the small lights which flickered through the barred door when guards went past with candles, and comforted himself with the thought of the greater Light from which he was not cast away. Night fell, and brought with it a bitterer cold. The guard came to the door and bundled a blanket through the bars to them.

"It is the Queen's mercy," he said, "and more mercy than you deserve."

"He should not speak so to you, Sir Mordred," said Galahad hotly, "and you the King's nephew."

Mordred said nothing. Galahad was aware of him, a great brawny shape in the shadows. At last Mordred spoke, in his deep voice with which it was said that he could charm serpents.

"You are closer to the blanket than I," he said.

Galahad reached to the very end of his chains, so that his wrist was bruised by the shackles, and snagged the blanket with his foot.

"Neatly done," said Mordred, his voice an amused rumble.

Galahad inched himself closer to the other man. "We should share the blanket."

"If I had been closer to the door, I would not have shared it with you."

Galahad did not know how to respond to that. Bringing the blanket with him, he tentatively shifted closer, until there was only a half-inch of warm air between himself and the heat of Mordred's side and shoulder. Shivering, he thrust the blanket over the other man's thighs, and then wrapped the rest about his own cold loins.

The silence between them had become almost another creature in the cell. Galahad cleared his throat. He could not think of anything to say, so he fell back on the subject that he knew best.

"Ah... Have you by chance heard of the Holy Grail?" he ventured.

"Do you imagine that I could have lived thirty years at my uncle's court and _not_ heard of the Holy Grail?" enquired Mordred, his voice rich with amusement. "Do you think me deaf and dumb, or merely stupid?"

"I have heard that you are very wise," said Galahad, speaking the honest truth, "and that is why it surprises me that you do not seek the Grail, for it is the way of wisdom."

"Did you not hear me when I spoke to my uncle the King? I have no time for fairy-tales and fancies. What if the men of Cornwall invade, and all the King's knights are off seeking a castle in the air? What of the wives and children left behind by men who have gone off to chase a dream?"

"You have no wife and no children," said Galahad finally.

"No more do you." Mordred's voice was heavy with meaning, heavy as chains in the dark.

"The Grail is my lady, and I wish no other," said Galahad. He was aware of how haughty he sounded, but he didn't know what he could do about that. The Grail was the truth, and if there was one thing he knew of Mordred, it was that he didn't shirk the truth. He wished he could _show_ Mordred the power and the purity of the Grail. But what could he do? He was but a poor vessel to even describe such glory.

There was a long pause. Galahad shivered. Mordred heaved a sigh beside him, like a man pushed beyond endurance; and then reached out a solid arm and drew Galahad closer against his side. "It will do the Grail no good if you shiver yourself to death," he said, "and it will annoy me. Though it would mean I could have the blanket to myself."

Galahad sat stiffly upright, not wanting to lean into Mordred's strength and warmth. It was the delusive strength of the flesh, he told himself; but all flesh was grass, and true strength came only from the One above whose blood had poured into the Grail and given it puissance.

"Why did you not swear to the King?" he asked finally. "You could have lied to him, and saved yourself a night in the dungeon."

"You think me full of falsehoods, as well as deaf and dumb?"

"So it is said of you," said Galahad honestly.

"Well, and it is so; the truth is not my master. But in this case, I was as honest as you, if not as pure-hearted." Mordred considered the matter. "I'm not sure anyone _could_ be. Not without straining something. Don't you find it just a bit of an effort?"

"It's an effort every day," said Galahad, surprised. "But I must strive to be worthy. No son of my father could do less."

"No son of your father." Mordred's side shook. Galahad thought it was shivers, and then he realised that the other man was silently laughing. "Oh, I know _that_ tale well."

"You are the son of a King," said Galahad courteously. "And though King Lot fought against our good King Arthur, yet I have heard that he was a worthy knight, and brave in battle."

"Ah, yes, King Lot," said Mordred. "He died before I was born, you understand."

"I am sorry for it," said Galahad politely.

"Why should you be? You had no hand in it. Lot was cold in the ground twenty years before you were born." Mordred laughed again, low in his throat. "Oh, don't sit there vibrating with distaste like God's own angry tuning-fork! I didn't know you were sensitive about the circumstances of your birth."

"How should I not be?" said Galahad bitterly. "My father broke his vow, and so I was born."

"My father broke more than that to bring me to birth." Mordred's voice was full of secrets, like dark water. Galahad had no idea what he meant, and he did not care to ask. His body was weary with shivering, and he found himself leaning against Mordred's side. Mordred drew his arm more snugly around Galahad's broad young shoulders, and after a while it felt as if they were but one warm creature breathing in the dark.

"The prophecy," said Galahad because he could not help himself, turning his head towards Mordred like a child blindly seeking comfort. "Do you think it will come true?"

"I doubt it," Mordred said robustly. "No doubt it is some sorceress's trick. That was why I abstained, you know, to see what the damosel would do."

"Did you expect her to do this?" said Galahad sleepily from somewhere around Mordred's collarbone.

"I did not expect... _any_ of this," said Mordred lightly. "Do not fear, youngling. I have eyes and ears around the court, and many men owe me favours."

"You mean they fear you," said Galahad.

"It comes to the same thing, does it not? They know I shall be set free, and so they will all race to be the one who sees it done, for fear that if they do not I will take vengeance upon them. And besides, I have another string to my bow." Mordred's hand squeezed warmly around Galahad's shoulder. "Those who are pure enough of heart not to fear me, will surely pity you."

"You are not so bad as you are painted," said Galahad, _willing_ it to be so. "You could have taken the blanket from me and you didn't. You could have let me shiver. You have no need to play the villain to me."

There was a long pause, and then Mordred's voice came in a rumble.

"You will be my conscience, is that it?"

"If you will have it so," said Galahad, his spirit all alight on wings of fire at the thought of winning the battle in the Grail's holy name, and saving this most complicated soul.

"I will have it so," said Mordred, and leaned down to kiss Galahad on the lips and seal the bargain.


End file.
